


Hope Against Hope

by stratusdreams



Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, Post-Eldritch Moon, Self Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 02:56:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20828234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratusdreams/pseuds/stratusdreams
Summary: Avacyn is gone, and Innistrad is in chaos. Cathar Odric and cleric Millie are brought together at Wittal Parish and must navigate a world plunged into darkness and their own feelings.





	Hope Against Hope

“Good morning.”

Millie blinked the sleep from her eyes and squinted. She glanced around, confused by her new surroundings. She was in a small stone room, with a small table beside her, and a tall blonde woman at the foot of her bed. Much of Millie’s leg was in a cast, and she winced at the throbbing pain in her knee. She looked back up at the blonde. “Am… Am I alive?”

“Yes. But for awhile, we weren’t so sure,” the blonde said. “You’re in much better condition now than when you were found, but you’ve still got a long road of healing ahead of you.”

“Where am I?” 

“This is the Cathedral in the Wittal Parish. You’re under the care of the Order of Saint Traft. I’m Thalia, the leader of the Order.” The blonde -- Thalia -- laughed a little. “You probably don’t know what any of that means.”

“Yeah.” Millie sat up slightly. “I barely remember the past… however many days I’ve been out at all.”

“Well, you were feverish with a broken ankle and several torn muscles, and you’ve been asleep for four days, so I don’t expect you to remember anything, frankly.” Thalia sat down on the edge of the bed. “When my cathars found you, you tried to explain what happened at your village, but you were so sick you could barely stand. You passed out and they brought you here, where our clerics did their best to heal you. It looks like you were caught in a trap at some point, judging by your ankle.”

Millie sighed. “I’m sure it’ll all come back to me soon enough.” She then decided to probe into what exactly this “Order” was. “Thalia, what  _ is  _ this group you lead?”

“The Order is fighting the Lunarch Council and the corruption within what used to be the Church of Avacyn.” Thalia’s voice became grave. “Currently, the Council controls Thraben, but we’re trying to take it back. But with the Eldrazi still roaming around, it’s been hard.”

“Ah, so you’re the good guys.”

Thalia smiled. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She waved a hand. “Enough about us. Who are  _ you _ ?”

“Millie -- Millie Harper. I’m from Wildegate, just south of Estwald. I’m a cleric of the Host of Herons.” She paused. “I… I guess I  _ was _ .”

“Sigarda is still around, with what remains of the Flight of Herons. So you’re still a Sigardian cleric.”

Millie gave a small sigh of relief. “Good. I never was close to the other angels. I mean, I respected them, of course, I just -- I was always closer to Sigarda. Sorry. I didn’t say any of that right...”

“I understood, no worries. At this point, Sigarda is all we have.”

“Then the others... “

“Are gone.”

“Oh.” Millie looked down at her leg; the throbbing had diminished significantly. But now, a dull pain settled in her chest. “I guess… I guess we just have to get used to it.”

“It’s all we can do.” Thalia shrugged. “Well… when you’re feeling up to it, there’s a pair of crutches against the wall on your right side. Grete tried to make them to fit you, but they might still be a little long. Come out into the main cathedral and see everyone.”

“I’ll go ahead and go now.” With Thalia’s help, Millie got dressed and was on her crutches. As Thalia said, they were a little too long, but the cathar promised that they would be shortened by the next morning.

The main cathedral had been converted into a headquarters for the Order. Cathars sat in the pews, sharpening swords and eating their rations. Clerics treated minor wounds or meditated. Millie swore she saw a few spirits in the mix, floating throughout the cathedral. “Are th--”

“Yeah, those are geists. They protect us from Eldrazi influence,” Thalia explained. 

“Ah.” 

The cathar glanced over to a large clock. “I have to go train some of the new recruits,” she said apologetically. “Make yourself at home, Millie.”

She left, and Millie stood awkwardly in the middle of the cathedral. She was painfully aware of the fact that she was an outsider. Millie spotted an empty pew by a window and limped over to it, groaning when she sat down, as a surge of pain coursed through her hip.

She heard someone cough from farther down the pew. Millie looked to her right and saw a man with silver hair staring out the window. His face was devoid of emotion, though Millie sensed a deep sense of grief in him. She wanted to speak to him, see if he needed someone to talk to, but figured that he probably wanted to be alone. 

As the other cathars around them began to stand and split off for their daily tasks, Millie and the man sat in silence, each staring out into the fields. She glanced over at him a few times, but his gaze was locked on the moor. 

Millie wanted nothing more than to reach out to him, but she thought better of it.  _ He would speak to me if he wanted to. _

\---

It had been a week since Millie had awoken in the cathedral, and while she was still in a lot of pain, her wounds were healing nicely. She’d gained the trust of the cathars, and frequently spent her afternoons helping the other clerics treat wounds. Millie had also been spending time sitting in silence with the silver-haired man, whose name she still hadn’t managed to catch yet. No one seemed to speak of him, much less to him. Not that Millie really minded. It was nice to just sit in silence with him. She had even noticed him sitting closer to her. Though they never spoke, she appreciated his presence.

When the pain wasn’t too bad, Millie wandered into the cathedral’s library, where a group of cats had taken up residence. One cat had recently had a litter of kittens, and Millie had taken the liberty of naming them after folktale heroes. She played with the cats everyday, and snuck parts of her meal out to them, though she imagined they didn’t really need it.

Millie went to the library to feed the cats, a bag with meat scraps tucked between her crutch and body. She opened the door and slowly lowered herself into a chair. The kitten swarmed at her feet and meowed, clambering for her attention and the scraps. Millie chuckled as she picked up a dark gray kitten she’d named Baxter and held him to her chest. “There, there, little ones. There’s plenty to go around.”

Millie was so caught up in the cats that she didn’t hear the heavy footsteps coming down the hall. When the door opened, she nearly jumped out of her skin. The cats scattered under chairs and tables, afraid of the intruder.

It was the silver-haired man.

Millie gulped before breathing a sigh of relief. “Come in.”

He sat down beside her, still not saying a word. Millie noticed that up close, his face was somber, with deep lines beside his eyes. His eyes were a lovely gray-blue, but they held an unfathomable pain beneath the surface. Millie gave him a soft smile. “So…”

He didn’t say anything. He watched as the kittens cautiously stepped out of hiding and began sniffing at his pants and boots. A kitten named Bella meowed and stood on her hind legs, pawing at him. The man gave a small chuckle.

“You can pick them up,” Millie explained, gesturing to Baxter. “That little girl is named Bella.”

The man slowly picked Bella up and sat her in his lap. While Millie knew that the kittens were small, the man made them look absolutely miniscule. He could practically hold the kitten in one hand. 

He slowly patted Bella’s head, and the kitten squeaked before purring. Millie couldn’t help but giggle a little. “She likes you.”

“You said her name was Bella?”

Millie blinked, shocked that he’d spoken. She collected herself before answering. “Yeah. I named her after the folktale princess. All of the kittens are named after folktale characters.”

He smiled at this. “Tell me their names?”

“Well, the kitten I’m holding is Baxter, named after the hero who slayed the archdemon Calumdel. And this other kitten is Gwen, named after the famed violinist. The last kitten is named Clara, and I named her after a travelling wizard who performed great feats of good. Their mother… well, to be honest, I just call her Mama Cat.”

The man mulled this over for a moment. “Which one is your favorite?”

“Baxter. He’s my little troublemaker.” She picked up Baxter and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “But I love all of them. I’ve always been a cat person.” She sighed, thinking of her beloved cat Arabella, who she’d been forced to abandon. 

“I’ve never had a cat,” the man said. 

“I… I had a cat.”

“She died?”

“Probably.” Millie shifted slightly in her seat. The memories of her flight from Wildegate had been returning to her, piece by piece. She winced as an unpleasant scene flooded her mind. She did her best to push it away.

“Are you alright…?”

“I’ll be fine,” Millie said. “Just… bad memories.”

“I understand,” he replied. He looked down at Bella and scratched under her chin. 

They sat in silence for awhile before Millie finally spoke. “You never told me your name.”

“Odric.”

“Odric,” Millie repeatedly softly. “I’m Millie.”

“I’ve heard. Thalia told me about you.”

“Oh?”

Odric nodded. “She thinks you would make a fine member of the Order.”

“I…” Millie shut her mouth again.  _ I wouldn’t make a fine member of anything _ . “That’s nice of her.”

Odric tilted his head and gave her a curious look. “Would you want to join?”

“I mean… yeah. I just… I don’t know.” Millie ran a hand over Baxter’s back. “Do you really think I could do it?” That was a silly question. They barely knew each other.

Which is why Millie was taken aback by Odric’s reply. “Of course. I’ve heard and watched you helping the cathars. You’re an excellent healer.”

The cleric felt her face flush at his complement. “Thank you,” she mumbled, turning away so Odric couldn’t see her now-rosy complexion. “I’m just doing my best.” She set Baxter down and picked Gwen up. 

“That’s all we can ask of you.” 

Millie gave him a faint smile. The two then sat in silence for a bit, simply enjoying the cats and each other’s company. Eventually, the time came for dinner, and the two had to return to the main cathedral. Before they left, Odric turned to her and asked, “Do you come here everyday?”

“Yes, when the pain isn’t so bad.”

“Can I join you?”

“Of course!” Millie cringed at how she’d sounded less like an adult woman and more like an excitable schoolgirl when she’d answered. “I mean -- yeah, of course you can. The cats could always use more company.”

“I think we all can.” With that, Odric left the room, and Millie trailed behind him, still in shock he’d spoken to her.

\---

“You’ve gotten Odric to talk?” Grete asked in a hushed whisper, leaning forward to hear Millie’s answer better. 

“A little.” Millie stirred the soup in her bowl disinterestedly. It had been a week since she and Odric had first spoken. They spent an hour or two together everyday now, playing with the cats and making small talk. She still didn’t know much about Odric other than his name, but that was okay, she mused. He didn’t know a thing about her either, other than her name and that she loved cats. Millie was glad he hadn’t asked about her past -- she didn’t think she was ready to talk about that yet.

“What’s he said?” 

“It’s just been small talk,” Millie explained. “He really likes the cats.”

“Cats?” Thalia quirked an eyebrow. When Millie went to explain, the soldier waved her hand. “It’s fine, Millie. The cats make you -- and Odric -- happy.” She glanced away. “We could all use a bright spot in our lives.” The blonde gently touched Millie’s hand. “Enough about cats and Odric. How are  _ you _ , Millie?”

“I’m… I’m okay. Things are looking up, you know?”

She saw curiosity flash in Thalia’s hazel eyes. Millie was relieved when Thalia didn’t press the question. Instead, the cathar said, “Well, that’s good. It seems your leg is healing up well. Maybe you’ll be able to walk without crutches soon.”

“I’ll ask Jamie about that,” Millie responded. “I still have a lot of knee problems. But that might just be something I’ll have to live with.” The cleric turned slightly and spotted Odric, sitting by the window, staring longingly into the fields. She wanted to go and sit with him, provide him companionship and just be around him. “I’m gonna go see how Odric is doing. I’ll talk to you two later.”

Millie approached Odric and set her crutches down before plopping down onto the pew beside him. “Hey. How are you holding up today?”

He simply shrugged. The brunette understood that he wasn’t in the mood to talk and was content to sit in silence for a bit. After a few moments, Millie noticed a clump of daisies near a small shrub. She leaned close to Odric and pointed at them. “Look,” she whispered. “The flowers are coming back.” He nodded, and Millie then noticed that her shoulder was brushing up against his arm. She felt the blood rushing to her face at the contact; she quickly pulled away, embarrassed. 

Odric’s gaze was locked on the flowers. Millie suddenly had an idea, and went to stand on her crutches. “Follow me.”

The silver-haired man gave her a confused look before following Millie to the cathedral’s doors. Millie stepped out into the fresh air, then turned to look at Odric. He stood in the doorway, unsure of himself. He seemed afraid.

“Here,” Millie said. She offered Odric her hand.

Odric stood there for a moment, hesitant, before gently placing his gloved hand in hers. With a gentle squeeze from Millie to encourage him, Odric stepped outside the church. The tension was still in his shoulders, but Millie noticed that his gaze wasn’t fearful.

The two made it to the daisies, and Millie knelt down on her good knee to pick a few. She chose the three prettiest daisies before turning to Odric. “Can you help me up?”

He reached under her arms and pulled her up, setting her crutches under her arms. Millie then handed the daisies to him.

He blinked in confusion. Millie took one of his hands and placed the daisies’ stems into it. “These are for you. Put them in your room.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re bringing in a little bit of happiness,” Millie explained. “You can put them in a vase beside your bed, so that when you wake up, they’re the first thing you see. And you can start your day with a smile.” She gave him an earnest smile. “It’s what helps me. It brings me hope.”

Odric clutched the daisies to his chest. Millie noticed tears brimming in his eyes. “Oh, Odric -- I’m sor--”

The soldier cut her off with his embrace. Millie dropped her crutches in her shock as Odric wrapped his arms around her tightly. The cathar was weeping openly by this point. Millie finally snapped out of her shock and hugged him back.

“Thank you,” he mumbled between heaving sobs. “Thank you.”

“I… of course.” Millie leaned into his chest. “Of course, Odric. I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you.” 

Millie and Odric stood there for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Odric let her go, and picked up her crutches for her. He handed them back to her and sniffled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Millie replied. “Here, let’s go find a vase for those.”

\---

_ “Where are you, you sin-plagued wench? Come out. Now!” _

_ Millie’s heavy breathing would surely give her away. She covered her mouth and tried to calm herself; but when she spotted a slithering tentacle from her hiding spot in the closet, she lost all pretense of calmness. She sobbed, sinking to the floor. It took all her strength to stand back up again and unlock the door once what had become of Alice had left. She sprinted through the house, to the front door. She had to get away. _

_ “Where do you think you’re going?” _

_ Spiderweb-like tentacles yanked Millie backwards. Darkness clouded her vision as her head slammed onto the floor. Her heart pounded in her ears as she clawed at the tentacles, desperate to escape. All she could hear was Alice’s maniacal laughter as the life was drained from her body, darkness overtaking her entirely. _

Millie woke up with a shock, completely drenched in sweat. Tears streamed down her face. The cleric felt as if her heart was about to break through her ribs with how it slammed against her chest. Shakily, Millie stood up. She wanted to go and sit in the cathedral and clear the nightmare from her thoughts.  _ If that’s even possible _ .

She limped out into main cathedral and slumped into the pew by the window. Jamie had suggested that Millie start putting weight on her leg again, even if only for a short distance. Her gait would likely never be the same, he’d warned her. She would probably have a limp for the rest of her life, due to the grievous injuries her leg had sustained during her flight from Wildegate. 

The cathedral was empty, as most of the cathars were at the outskirts of Thraben, battling the sinpurged Lunarchs for control of the city. The emptiness was both comforting and terrifying.

“At least I’m alive,” she’d said. She found herself repeating that phrase as she sat in the pew. “At least I’m alive.”

“Millie?”

Odric’s voice was soft as he approached. He was dressed in a light cotton shirt and simple black pants, much different than his usual heavy attire, and his hair was loose rather than pulled back into a long ponytail. As soon as she saw him, Millie threw herself into his arms and wept. Odric wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair. “What’s wrong?” he asked, though Millie couldn’t respond. She buried her face in his chest, laying her cheek against his heartbeat, steady like a drum in his chest. Odric held her tighter and whispered, “It’s okay, Millie. It’s alright.”

When she could finally speak, she mumbled, “I had a nightmare.” She hated how childish that sounded, how small her voice had been. “I… Can I talk to you about it?”

“Of course.”

They sat down before Millie began to explain. She told him about the dream, then found herself rambling what had actually happened. “My sister… she was always closer to Avacyn. I respected Avacyn, of course, but I was closer to Sigarda. She was my angel, y’know? Well… when Avacyn went mad… Alice blindly followed her. She joined the Inquisition. A few weeks later, our parents disappeared.”

She noticed Odric’s jaw tighten at that. Still, he allowed her to continue, listening with a sympathetic expression. “I tried to help her, but she would just lash out at me. And then, I noticed the weird growths on her. I… I knew what had happened.

So I decided to flee. I had to, or I was going to be next. I couldn’t help her anymore. I packed my bags and was going to steal a horse, but… just as I was about to leave, she came back to the house. She was supposed to be gone on a hunt. But she was there, and she was ready to kill me. I hid, and realized that if I was going to escape, I had to leave everything behind. Even my father’s journal, which I promised myself I would take. I was finally able to escape when a town crier distracted her. 

I ran into the woods, down the main road out of Wildegate, and the entire time I swore she was going to catch me, that she was just behind me. I ran, and I ran, and… I don’t really remember anything after I tripped and fell. The cathars who brought me here told Jamie that they’d found me with a wolf trap on my ankle, and that I was bleeding and feverish, on the edge of death. I do remember one thing, though. I remember thinking to myself that I had to keep moving, or else I was going to die. Stopping to rest meant Alice was going to get me…”

Tears flowed down Millie’s face. Odric pulled her back into his embrace. “Oh, Millie, I’m… I’m so sorry.” He was crying too.

They stayed like that for awhile, holding each other while Millie wept, until Odric gently pulled away. He gave her a soft, shy smile. “Follow me?”

He stood up and offered Millie his hand. She took it, allowing him to lead her to a small side door beside the entrance to the kitchen.

They stepped out into the cool night. The moon illuminated the moor with a lovely silver light, and a light breeze rustled the grass. Odric led her across the grass, to the daisies.

It had been about a week since she’d given Odric his bundle of daisies. A new cluster of flowers had sprung up, standing tall under the moonlight. The soldier knelt down and picked six daisies, then he stood up and handing them to Millie -- all but one. As Millie held the daisies against her chest, Odric tucked the final flower behind her ear. The cleric was sure he could hear the pounding of her heart as she stared at him. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. Odric tilted her chin up and pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. While Millie appreciated the gesture, she was admittedly disappointed he hadn’t kissed her lips. 

He remained close to her, arms wrapped tight around her. Millie could hear the racing of his heart when he went to gaze at her. “Odric…” Millie’s voice was barely above a whisper. She was about to stand on her tiptoes and take matters into her own hands when a wolf’s howl broke the silence.  _ How cliche _ , Millie thought in annoyance. 

“We should probably head back inside,” Odric murmured apologetically. He turned on his heel to leave, but looked back at Millie. “Here,” he said, offering her his hand once more. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

Millie interlocked their fingers as they walked back to the church. She glanced anxiously at Odric, looking for any sign of disapproval, but she found none. A warm, content feeling settled over her. 

He opened her door for her. Millie stepped into her room, then turned to Odric as he spoke to her. “I…” He paused, unsure of what he truly wanted to say. “Ah… Goodnight, Millie.”

She gave a small smile. “Goodnight, Odric.”

She closed her door and set the daisies down on her bedside table. Millie then took the daisy from behind her ear, and found herself playing a silly game she hadn’t thought of in years. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

She plucked the last petal. “He loves me.”

_ Hopefully. _

\---

The next morning, the cathedral was filled with injured cathars. Thalia had come into Millie’s room and requested her assistance, which the cleric was more than happy to give. She and the head cleric Jamie were in charge of surgery. Millie worked tirelessly throughout the morning until the evening. Her wrist ached by noon, due to her sewing up countless wounds, but she pressed on. She had a job to do.

Millie, Jamie, and two other clerics -- Isa and Lysander -- finally finished taking care of all the injured cathars by sunset. Millie was about to go and clean her tools when Thalia requested the cleric’s presence in her office. 

“Millie, how comfortable do you feel leaving Wittal Parish?” Thalia asked, leaning against a large oak desk. 

“Umm… I haven’t really thought about it. I guess I’d be okay with it,” the cleric answered. She gave Thalia a curious look. “You want me to go with you all to Thraben?”

Thalia’s lips curled into a smile. “Not quite. I would like you and Odric to do some scouting on the western outskirts of Thraben. We have reason to believe there’s a series of tunnels on the outskirts that lead directly into the main church. If we can find the tunnels, we can launch a coordinated attack to take back the city from the inside.”

Millie blinked. “I… you think I can do it? I mean, I still have a limp, and I’m not all that str--”

Thalia cut her off. “Millie, if I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t be suggesting this to you. Obviously, you don’t have to go, but know that I have all the faith in the world in your abilities.”

The cleric looked down at her hands and sighed. Could she really do this? 

She thought back to her home, decimated by the sinpurged. She thought of her parents’ disappearance and the tragic fate of Alice. She thought of her flight from Wildegate and how she never wanted anyone to suffer like that again. She thought of the cathars she’d stitched up that day, and how they continued to fight for hope, against all odds. She couldn’t let them down.

Millie lifted her chin and looked Thalia in the eyes. “When will we be leaving?”

\---

Two days later, Millie and Odric packed their bags and set out on foot. Horses were far too large and noisy to take out, especially with the Eldrazi still roaming the moorlands. The trek to Thraben from Wittal Parish would take approximately a day and a half, weather and health permitting.

As they walked, Millie found her mind wandering to her romantic daydreams. Her favorite silly fantasy to indulge in was a picnic outside the cathedral, under the cover of the willows, far from prying eyes. Soft words would be exchanged -- maybe a few gentle touches, too. She imagined Odric with his hair down, relaxed and happy, reaching for her, kissing her softly. Those calloused hands would feel so nice, cupping her cheek and pulling her closer. “ _ I love --” _

“Watch out!”

Millie was yanked from her daydream by Odric’s voice and his hand wrapped tight around her arm. A small Eldrazi scion skittered away before Odric brought his foot down on it hard. He ground his boot into the ground, ensuring it was dead.

“Sorry,” Millie mumbled. “I, uh, didn’t see it there.”

“I could tell,” Odric said, but there wasn’t any malevolence in his tone; he had spoken in a good-natured voice, and had a slight smile on his face. “Lost in your thoughts, were you?”

“Yeah…” She felt the heat rising in her face. “Well, uh, let’s get going. We’ve still got plenty of ground to cover.”

That night, they set up camp on the outskirts of Thraben. Odric lit a campfire, while Millie cast a Sigardian defense spell that would protect the duo from intruders -- or, at the very least, alert them to danger. The soldier had killed a pheasant that afternoon and was now cooking it over the fire. Millie sat at his side, shivering in the cold.

Odric noticed Millie’s shaking and gestured to his coat lying on the ground. “You can use it.”

The cleric wrapped his coat around her shoulders, pulling it tight across her body. She felt so safe and secure enveloped in his scent. Millie didn’t even realize that she was leaning against Odric until he shifted his arm under her cheek. “Oh, I’m sorry --”

“Don’t be,” he said. 

They sat quietly while the pheasant finished cooking, then Odric divvied it up between the two. “Odric, you gave me too much…”

“You need to eat.”

“You’re bigger than me! You need more food than I do.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Trust me! I’m sort of a doctor.”

He rolled his eyes with a slight grin. “Hardly.”

“Hey! I could mess you up, mister.”

“‘Mister?’ That’s  _ sir  _ to you, young lady.”

Millie couldn’t stop the blush on her face at that remark. 

Odric finished first and turned to Millie. “Should I stay up and keep watch, or will the spell hold enemies off?”

“It should hold them off. At the very least, it’ll warn us to their presence and give us enough time to react. The spell I used was taught to me by my father -- he was a battlefield cleric. He developed it specifically to alert him to nearby enemies.”

“Your father was a smart man,” Odric commented.

Millie’s nose twitched. “Smart, yes. Wise? Ah… not always.”

“What do you mean?”

“I… My sister…” The cleric stopped herself, feeling tears pool into her eyes. She glanced at Odric, who gazed at her with such a deep sadness she couldn’t stop herself from sobbing. The soldier opened his arms to her and pulled her into his embrace. Millie wept into his chest while he stroked her hair. She felt like a stupid little girl as she cried. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Odric choked out. “Don’t be.” His voice was soft, as if he was holding back tears. “Here, let’s get some sleep. We need it.”

The silver-haired man laid out their blankets, then collapsed onto them. Millie laid down beside him, now using his jacket as a blanket. She scooted closer to him. In response, Odric wrapped an arm around her and pulled her flush against him. Millie squeaked in surprise, to which Odric asked, “You don’t want this?”

“I was just -- uh, caught off guard.”

“You seemed cold,” Odric huffed. He appeared to be… flustered?  _ Did I embarrass the commander? _ Millie thought, amused. “Goodnight, Millie.”

“Goodnight, Odric.”

\---

The tunnels were cool, damp, and dark. Millie felt her claustrophobia spiking as she stared into the void before her and Odric. The two had found the entrance to the tunnels on the outer wall shortly before noon. “We should make it to the center by nightfall,” Odric explained. “If memory serves me correctly…”

He went to light a torch, but Millie stopped him, opting to cast a light spell. “I figure it’s safer,” she said, and Odric nodded his approval with a slight smile. The cleric sensed that he was hiding dark feelings from her, but she decided not to pry. He would tell her if he was comfortable.

As they walked in silence, Millie thought of her father. He’d taught her every spell she knew, including the one she used to light the tunnel. Johnathan Harper was a stalwart Sigardian cleric who frequently left their home in Wildegate to fight horrors lurking on the path from their village to Estwald. When Millie was old enough, he took her and Alice on trips with him while their mother Catherine remained at home. Alice would always wander off to commiserate with the soldiers. Millie, on the other hand, would stay at her father’s side and learn spell after spell, herb after herb, rite after rite. 

  
  


_ He had taken her into the woods one night when she was fifteen years old. Her father led her to the body of a dying deer. “I… Papa… why are you showing me this?” Millie asked, tears springing to her eyes.  _

_ “I have something to teach you. But you must promise to never tell anyone where you learned this spell, and you must only use it when you’re alone, and with someone you trust. This spell has been passed through our family for generations and I believe it’s time you learned it, but no one else in this day and age may know it. Understood, Millie?” _

_ “I… what--” _

_ “Millie,” her father said, his voice stern and sharp. “Do you understand me?” _

_ She hung her head, defeated. “Yes, Papa.” _

_ “Good. Kneel down with me.” _

_ She crouched at his side. “This is an ancient death rite. It eases the soul into darkness, before the angels of Alabaster lead the soul to the Blessed Sleep. It is far more merciful than what we call ‘mercy killing.’” Lavender-colored mist swirled around his fingertips. He began to whisper a soft chant in a language Millie didn’t recognize. The deer’s eyes were filled with the lavender mist before closing. Its soul lifted out of its body and stared at the father and daughter for a moment. Then, the spirit dissipated into the night. _

_ “What language was that, Papa?” _

_ “Ancient Nephalian,” he explained. “I wrote down the chant with pronunciations in my journal. Do you know where I keep my journal, Millie?” _

_ “No.” _

_ “When you walk into my room, find the squeakiest floorboard on the left side of the bed. Pry open the floorboards, and open the wooden box. Inside is my journal. Now, Millie, look at me.” Johnathan’s face was deadly serious as he spoke in a hushed tone. “When I die, do not let  anything  happen to that journal. That journal is yours, and only yours. You must protect it with your life, because it’s bound to you. To our family, to our blood.” _

_ You’re scaring me, Millie thought. But she simply nodded and replied, “I understand, Papa.”  I really don’t . _

_ “Good. I know I can trust you, Millie.” _

“Millie? Are you okay?”

Odric stopped walking and gave Millie a concerned look. “Is something wrong?”

She opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again. “Oh… I… I’ll tell you one day, I promise. It’s just… very difficult to talk about it…”

“I understand.” He reached out to her, rubbing her shoulder blade comfortingly. “Don’t ever feel pressured to tell me anything, alright?” 

“Odric… enough about me. Are  _ you  _ alright?” Millie saw him tense at that, though he tried to shove it away with a smile.

“I’ll be okay.”

“So you aren’t.”

He glanced away from her, then began to walk again. “Like you, I’d rather not talk about some things.” His tone was sharper than normal; Millie winced at how he spoke to her, but pressed forward in silence, wondering what Odric was thinking.

They finally reached a wooden door, and Odric cautiously opened it. “It’s the church. We’re in a room near the main cathedral.” He stepped inside and scanned the room before gesturing for Millie to follow. 

“So we’ve completed the mission,” Millie said cheerfully as she followed him into the ruined cathedral. She quickly regretted her chipper tone when Odric turned to her, tears in his gray eyes. “Oh… Odric… I’m so sorry. Should we leave now? Head back?”

“It’s too late,” he choked out. “We have to stay here for the night.” As he stared at the shattered stained glass behind the altar, tears began to fall down his worn, tired face. “Millie, I need to tell you something.”

The cleric stepped forward and took his hands in hers. “What’s wrong?”

“Millie, I… I was on the Lunarch Council. I thought everything I was doing was going to stop Avacyn’s wrath and save Innistrad’s people, the world. I thought I was in the right. But I let terrible things happen and stood idly by until my hand was forced, and then I was a coward who didn’t even fight to reclaim Thraben. Everything is my fault.” His whole body shuddered as he sobbed. “And your sister, blindly following the Council’s orders… that was my fault too. Innistrad is a damned world, and I let it die.”

“Odric, don’t say that. None of this was your fault. You were doing what you thought was best.”

“I let children burn at the stake! I let villages crumble to the earth! I let your sister abuse you! I let her turn into a monster!” Odric swallowed hard. “I’m no better than her, Millie. I let atrocity after atrocity happen. How can you even look at me?”

“Odric,” Millie said again, more insistently this time. “Avacyn’s madness wasn’t your fault. And my sister’s transformation wasn’t your fault, either. She… she was a monster regardless of the Eldrazi influence…” Now it was Millie’s turn to weep, as memories of Alice’s cruelty came flooding back to her. “You aren’t to blame.”

“But I  _ am _ !” Odric collapsed to the ground on his knees. “I don’t understand how you can stand here and insist that I’m not a monster! Evil, disgusting -- I let so many innocent people die. The Council’s influence -- my influence -- turned your sister into an Eldrazi horror. Yet here you are, telling me I’m not evil.  _ How _ ?!” He nearly shouted the last word as stared up at her, wrath and sorrow in his eyes.

Millie took a deep breath, collecting herself before speaking. With tears still in her eyes, she laid a hand on Odric’s cheek. “Odric, I forgive you.”

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I forgive you,” Millie repeated, running her thumb over his cheekbone. “I forgive you, Odric.” Her voice was hardly a whisper as she took Odric’s hands in hers and pulled on them slightly, encouraging him to stand. The soldier stumbled to his feet and stared at her in disbelief.

“I don’t understand,” he mumbled. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Well, you have it,” the cleric responded. 

Now Odric placed a hand on Millie’s right cheek. The brunette tilted her chin up so she could look at him. His face was still flushed, but the tears on his cheeks had begun to dry. “Millie,” he whispered, “you’re too good for me. There are a hundred young men and women,  _ good  _ men and women, who stare at you each day and wish to hold you in their arms. And yet… you’ve chosen me. Why?”

“They’re not who I want. You’re who I want.” Millie gripped his jacket tight in her hands and leaned into his body. “You’re all I want. Don’t you feel the same way?”  
Odric glanced away, then looked back at Millie. “I do.”

With that, he leaned close to her; Millie stood on her tiptoes and their lips met. Odric wrapped his other hand around her waist and kept her flush against him. His lips were surprisingly soft, Millie thought. Her hands left his jacket so she could wrap her arms around his neck. When they finally pulled apart, Odric embraced her tightly. Millie could hear him sniffling, so she looked up at him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” he whispered, caressing her face in both hands. “I’ll be alright.”

Millie took his hands in hers once again. “We both will be.”


End file.
